hadriel_logs | Event Log: Bad End

Entry tags:

Event Log: Bad End

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Bad End event
Where: All over the city!
When: August 23rd-September 5th
Warnings: Bad futures, awkward conversations, smashed mirrors

You wake up to find a mirror at your bedside - a pretty nice one, too, a silver hand mirror perfect for fixing your hair in. Only when you try to do that, it's not your gorgeous reflection that you see. It's something else - a terrible future, just about as bad as anything you could imagine for yourself.

Maybe you see your loved ones dead on the ground, and you know it's your fault. Maybe you see the goal you've been working so hard for pulled out of your reach forever. Maybe you see someone you've hurt in the past ruining your life. Maybe you see your hot girlfriend leaving you to shack up with your worst enemy. Whatever you see, it really sucks, and you know that it's possible. This future could happen if you make the wrong choices, give in to your worst impulses.

Break the mirror if you want, but you'll see the same vision in any reflective surface in the city. You can't break them all, but you can sure try. And what will you do when you see your best friend's vision - and it features you betraying them?

Seek reassurance, give reassurance, lash out, vow to yourself that you'll never let it turn out that way, sink into the depths of sorrow because you feel like the future you see is inevitable. Whatever you do, it won't take away those visions - not until the event is over.

► This log covers August 23rd-September 5th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you can't handle the idea of your dark future, or maybe you just accidentally slip and fall on a mirror shard, let us know here.

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"""probably"""
that's so reassuring
and it probably says a lot about me that I'm still going to accept your help because I'd much rather avoid the clinic if I can

where do you live?
i'll swing by

[The reminder of what happened to Hadriel's previous natives is enough of a sobering thought that even Lup grows quiet. It's not the first time she's thought of the benefits to being a lich in this place. Besides the destructive powers she'd wield, she'd be mostly unkillable, a last stand against the gods if the unthinkable happened.

It's a plan she wants to fly by her friends, but Lup can imagine their reactions won't be too positive, even if she's already been told it's what her future holds back in their timeline. Why not fudge the when and where it happened a little? What could it hurt?]

Got it. Either way, keep us updated. My crew is all on the side of kicking these guys out of power.

[...]

Right. Hey, you seem to be feeling better already, kid, so I'm gonna go. Like, now. This is me. Exit stage left.

The question is, how far are they willing to go to keep all of this from happening to anyone else...

[Marian isn't optimistic on that front, voice bleak.]

Oh. Alright. Goodbye.

I haven't been around here long, but I'm guessing the answer is a big, fat zero.

No. No, you - I would not ask that of you. (He feels sick at the idea of putting those images in Fingon's mind. He has enough on his plate.

The tree's presence helps him feel more stable and he touches the trunk, taking the weight off his injured leg.)

...of course. (He blinks at the query and closes his eyes, trusting.)

[Marian sighed. Malkus was, unfortunately, correct. Minus one incident where the parasites decided to have it snow...]

No, I'll be better off keeping busy. As would you. It doesn't help anything in the end.

Watch out for the bottles' reflections, too.

You haven't, Telperinquar. Hush, cousin, it's alright.

[He waits until Celebrimbor's eyes are securely fastened closed, then holds a bright green stone to his face. Telpe's grandfather had wrought it, he remembers, and wonders what Feanor would think of how it's being used.

Probably disapprovingly. He always seemed to disapprove of Fingon, no matter what he happened to be doing.

The light of a burning Beleriand is the first to reflect of Celebrimbor's face; but Fingon is becoming too familiar with his own nightmares to react much. With a grimace he looks more carefully, and there he sees a face- a Maia less of fire than molten metal.

Oh, he thinks, his heart sinking, and when he's seen enough he closes his hand around the jewel.]

That's what you faced? [He slips an arm over Celebrimbor's shoulder.] Oh, Telpe. You were so strong.

(He senses what Fingon is seeing, but this is his cousin's choice. His expression falls nonetheless and he tenses, trying to block out Sauron's voice. It's sometimes hard for him to remember that the Maia is Sauron and not Annatar.

His heart is pathetically confused on that point.

Furthermore, he feels like a coward for keeping his eyes closed. Not that he needs to see the scene again. He has already lived part of it.)

...Hadriel took me from it. (The warm weight on his shoulders helps him open his eyes at last. He shakes his head, wincing.) I'm not. He...tricked me into making rings. Rings that can be controlled by him. He was angry at me because I would not tell him where I had hid them.

It took us all from something, little cousin. In your case, clearly, it erred by not coming a bit earlier. [And then compounded the problem by this mess. Bastards.]

I gathered. But you refused him, and kept refusing him. Telperinquar, that shows more courage than you seem to realize. [Celebrimbor faced the Maia who killed Finrod, after all. Who killed...who knew how many other people? Defying him when in his power was far from nothing.]

If he tricked you, then he is the one at fault between the two of you.

Every time Abigail passes by a mirror, she stops and looks, transfixed by the visions in the reflection. It's enough to make her heart speed in her chest and send her stomach churning. Adding to the torment, she finds herself constantly fighting the urge to look at Hannibal or Will's visions. They'd be too personal and she fears how terrifying an image would have to be, to bother Hannibal. She could tell something had been on his mind, a sort of daughter's intuition. She lacks the perfect, soothing words to offer to comfort him as he's so often done for her and it makes her feel guilty. She's also concerned enough to try to help.

She walks over to him and gently places her hand on his arm. "We could cover them up. The mirrors and anything else that needs to be hidden." She suggests. She know he's been better at avoiding them then she has, but they're still there. The threat of even accidentally seeing those sights is constant. "Or do you, um, want to talk about what you saw?"

It did. (His searches Fingon's face, knowing that his cousin is hiding his pain - his anguish. Shyly, he slips an arm around him, leaning his cheek against Fingon's shoulder.)

I was warned. Artanis told me to be wary of him and I...felt it too. At first. But he knew how to stroke my ego. (And Celebrimbor had been deaf to all the warning bells.) What he does to me cannot match what he would do if he found those rings. Arda would perish and be reborn in the Dark.

[Fingon leans in to pull Celebrimbor close.]

Don't blame yourself. I saw his master at work in Tirion, and even when you thought that one was the oiliest being you'd ever seen, there was always something about him which made you almost want to stay near.

[Until your baby niece toddled out, The Slimy One looked thoroughly disconcerted and excused himself, and you were left with a crying little girl and the urgent need to find a scalding bath. It was a strange time.]

And from what I've heard, Sauron was better at that game than Morgoth ever was.

(He has no complaints and he settles against Fingon contentedly.)

I was always unsure of every decision I made. I felt as if I was ruling alone and when he came in the guise of a being called Annatar, he seemed to lift some of the burden. I could breathe and create again and for that I was too grateful.

(Not to mention the fact that Annatar had been beautiful. Strange times indeed!)

He played the game well until he revealed his hand. Then I wanted nothing more than to defy him with my last breath.

You're certain? That's fair, that is fair. I'm not completely sure I'd trust any establishment here.

[ Malkus quickly nodded and fiddled with the straps of his mask. He pulled them tight and tugged on his gloves to keep them fitting snug. They were idle motions he performed in a desperate attempt at seeming casual. ]

I do intend to keep busy! It'd be good to have a stock of tinctures for various uses, you know? The spirits- [ He mimed holding two bottles, for some reason. Malkus just wanted to fill up empty space at this point. Oh lord why'd he ask such an odd thing. Was drinking unprofessional? Did he seem unprofessional now? ] The spirits have a property that pulls extracts out.

I've definitely got some work to do!

[ Curufn steps forward, concern in his face. ]

Whatever you see, none of it is happening, nor is it a reliable vision. It is a delusion sent by the gods.

[Well. She's laughing.

That's a good thing, right? Way better than crying or just generally moping about the reflection business.

So clearly he's doing something right.]

Yeah, you never realize how damp the cave gets 'til you're covered in about six layers of wool and cotton. That's what I get for being a mysteryman!

[Pronounced as if it were a surname, of course.]

I only wish I could have been there for you in truth. But you are safe now. I won't let anyone hurt you any longer.

"It was very lonely." Maglor sighs softly.

"I don't know. Maybe I really am imaging you. But you sound real."

"Ah." Maglor's eyes clear as he looks at him.

"The visions." He sighs. "Oh. These?" He blinks. "I...it helps me focus. The injuries aren't serious."

But they are self-inflicted. New scratch marks over old burn scars.

Edited 2017-09-03 11:24 (UTC)

I-

[ She could've avoided this. Stupid, she thinks, to assume. Like she always does. Assuming what other people think, feel, and now have seen. Rose could have left Kate to run away and maybe the woman would have just blocked the image from her memory. Wouldn't know that- ]

-think you. You saw my reflection, [ she stutters out, unable to stop herself. ]

And I'm sorry, I know it's. Not pretty, but. It's not me. I swear it isn't, not anymore.

[ 'Anymore'? ]

[ Rose also just has a pain tolerance a mile high. It comes from a life of fight or die. You learn to choke back a lot of pain;
if you let it distract you, even for an instant, it could be your undoing. ]

It is for me, [ she's quick to respond. ] What I saw, it was... something I was. Something I'm scared of becoming again. But they do say the things we fear the most are the things that have already happened to us, so. I suppose it makes sense.

And Sorrow's nice to me. Doesn't mean he isn't going to do what he needs to for an emotional boost.

[ Disclaimer: Sorrow is actually not to Rosie at all. ]

No, they don't. So if this helps, honestly, I don't mind. It sucks, yeah, but... Could be worse.

[ The blond doesn't bristle, exactly, but her jaw does tighten just a fraction at the almost misstep. She knows what he was going to say. 'Parasites.' That's what Marian calls them, too. What The Null call them.

Even if they are by definition, they're so much more than that. ...But she can't blame Malkus - or anyone - either for the label. Gods doesn't really fit them either, she thinks, but she'd rather call them something nice than negative so she sticks with it. ]

Yeah, Love's around. They're an obnoxious pink cloud. Don't how powerful they are, honestly, but. You could try! Or just relax and give Tranquility some good vibes, he'd probably like that.

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Event Log: Bad End

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Is it okay if Curufin sees Henry's vision?

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